


Smell of Safety

by popfly



Series: This Might Help Ficlets [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, preslash, this might help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for <a href="http://www.keysmashblog.com">Keysmash</a>'s This Might Help challenge, week one, episode 3.01 "Tattoo".</p>
    </blockquote>





	Smell of Safety

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Keysmash](http://www.keysmashblog.com)'s This Might Help challenge, week one, episode 3.01 "Tattoo".

Being sedated as a werewolf was unlike anything Isaac had ever experienced. He couldn’t move his body, couldn’t open his mouth to shout for help or fight back when he was manhandled into a wheelchair, couldn’t even crack his eyes open to get a glimpse of the person - the werewolf - doing the manhandling. But he could smell everything, and he knew the werewolf pushing his chair wasn’t any of the werewolves he knew.

He could also feel, the scratch of the hospital gown against his newly healed skin, the sharp, shooting pain of the injury unable to heal underneath, and the cold wash of adrenaline that spiked through system as he totally, completely freaked the fuck out inside his own head.

It’s so much worse than the helplessness and panic of being locked in a chest in his father’s basement, because at least then he could pound his fists against the walls and scream. Useless, of course, but still soothing in an odd way, that he could fight back even that futilely.

Not being able to fight back at all is terrifying.

He can hear also, even above the rushing of blood in his ears, so he knows they’re getting on an elevator. The wheelchair jolts a little as it clacks over the gap between linoleum floor and elevator car, and his captor moves around him to press the button for a floor, if the snick of claw on metal and the little ding are anything to go by. Isaac tries to focus on these little details, the rough sound of material as the werewolf moves - scrubs, maybe, a disguise so he’ll blend in - and the smell of wolf that is so different from his packmates, from Scott - 

He gets a whiff of something familiar, and if he could he’d go rigid in his chair, as his body floods with relief. Scott. He can smell Scott. And not just the way he could when Ms. McCall’d been at his bedside, that had been muted by her perfume and her own, softer scent. This is strong enough for Isaac to know that Scott is nearby. And when the werewolf in the elevator with him growls, Isaac knows that Scott is coming for him.

Scott is going to save him.

The thought brings a wave of warmth, and his heart beats a little harder, a little faster, in his chest. He’s still limp in his chair, a blind ragdoll, but inside he’s a flurry of emotions that make him dizzy despite being motionless.

Even through the sounds of the fight, the cracking of the plastic covering the overhead lights, the thud of bodies hitting the walls of the elevator, the wheels of his chair rattling as he rolls back and forth while the car rocks, he can smell Scott and he knows that he’s going to be okay.


End file.
